So I pushed him away. Broke him down.
Hurt him beyond repair.
Listened to another man speak, then silenced the one I love.
This deep, heavy pain hangs off my ribs, making them bow from the weight … a pain I refuse to stuff away as I look deep into Cainon’s eyes, achingly aware of the cage at my back. The lives tucked behind the bars lining this curling wall.
My resolve hardens.
Cainon preyed on my vulnerabilities when he took me to that burrow and molded me into his personal assassin. Though I hate the thought of wielding those same ugly tools, I’m not above scrapping in the pit of moral mud.
Not here. Not now.
“I know what it’s like to feel undeserving of any sort of love but the one that’s unreciprocated,” I rasp, and his body locks.
Goes eerily still.
I settle my hand upon his scar, spores of self-hatred soiling my insides like an undusted mantle. “We’ve both been forged by a conditional love that broke us into crumbs people still manage to choke on. Perhaps there’s something poetic in that? Inus.”
The words are vile, rotten things …
Cainon looks at my hand, studying it like it’s some sort of gift he’s not sure how to receive.
I’ll never forgive myself for preying on his weakness. But with that little girl’s sobs still echoing in my ears, I’ll do whatever it takes.
I’ll be a monster—for her.
Forthem.
I tap my cupla with the tip of my bloody finger. “I could love this,” I whisper, the sour, lumpy lie slipping off my tongue.
His eyes take on a devastating shade of black that spoils my insides, blazing across my face in a way I imagine the sun scorches the dunes of Rouste.
Perhaps that’s exactly what I deserve.
To burn.
I wipe my chin, dragging the silky, wet smear down the side of my neck. He hunts the motion—like he’s feeding off the crimson picture I’m painting. “Give me what Rhordyn never did,” I say, thoughts ofhisicy lips skimming my yearning pulse almost bringing me to my knees.
A pit-size lump swells in my throat …
Don’t cry.
“Give me what Icrave.”
Another low, sawing growl rattles his chest. Runs me through with a strike of fear I’m swift to smother. “It’ll hurt, petal. My teeth … they’re not as sharp as a full-blooded Unseelie. There’s nothinggentleabout my bite.”
A bold smile curls my lips.
I want him to make such a mess of my neck that I can never look at myself the same again—eternally reminded of this filthy act of survival that makes me want to shred my skin.
“Good.”
He grips the side of my face, a harsh assault I lean into as he smears more blood across my lips. “My pretty flower. So full of surprises.”
My entire body bristles.
If he only knew.
